Worth the Wait
by ShinyAnn
Summary: Somethings are always worth waiting for. Post War. Warnings : Sexual Content.


" A little to the left, Draco." The photographer pauses in his fiddling, peering over the edge of his camera , his fingers fluttering in the air , directing Draco to tilt his head in a specific way. Draco obeys with alacrity, his jaw lifting up and his elbows moving back as he gazes into the lens .

The photographer whistles in appreciation before finishing the shot and clapping his hands in delight.

"You've aced it , Dray!" Blaise Zabini pokes him on his side and Draco grins at his best friend and colleague.

"So did you. That one with the pool was A class. " Draco smiles fondly, enjoying the way Blaise flushes at the compliment.

It feels good to be appreciated, of course. After everything they've been through, all the ridicule , shame and alienation , its only natural that the slightest sign of approval makes the blood sing in their veins, their minds relaxing and relishing the thought of doing something _right. _

"When's your next meeting at the M?" Blaise asks casually , stuffing their clothes into a backpack while the rest of the crew packed up for the day. Draco shrugs.

"In a week or so , why?"

"They say Potter's gonna be back for this one." Blaise smiles, delight evident in his handsome features and Draco forces his face to smile and his eyes to crinkle, trying to swallow the sudden bout of panic bubbling up in his throat.

"Really?" His voice sounds high and abnormal, slightly screechy even, but Blaise doesn't comment on it. Instead he nods in obvious anticipation.

"Yeah. After nearly two years! Can you believe that? I thought he would never come this way again." Blaise laughs , shaking his head in disbelief and Draco echoes his chuckle weakly, his mind already stretching and straining to process this new information. He's not really sure if he wants to see Potter.

* * *

At seventeen , Draco is old enough to stop having butterflies in his stomach.

Try telling that to his brain, which turns to mush the minute someone mentions a certain raven-haired green-eyed boy.

Its almost poetic, the way their friendship starts.

Draco feels like a rapidly crumbling building, the foundation rocked out of place, the pillars disintegrating day by day and the roof held together only by the last remaining shards of his sanity.

Harry rescues him, disassembles him down to the last tiny brick and then rebuilds him .

Draco owes his life to him , of course but Harry doesn't take payment. Instead he offers the lonely, misled boy his friendship and Draco falls deeper in debt.

At eighteen , they're given a chance to rebuild their world, from scratch. A clean slate.

And Harry is right there by his side.

They have a kind of telepathic camaraderie, something that stuns the people around them. It makes them laugh suddenly and loud , at odd moments, finding humor in everyday happenings. Its amazing how much looks can convey , and a few glances is all it takes for them to carry out whole conversations, confusing their friends, who pout at being left out.

Its not something they do intentionally , of course. Its like there's a part of Harry in Draco, a part of Draco in Harry and everytime their eyes meet, they connect.

During Saturday night parties and club days, they dance together, leaning into each other in playful flirtation, Draco with his fingers sinking lightly into Harry's waistband, while Harry holds him by the lapels of his shirt. They laugh and tease and grin and flirt , their actions suggesting playfulness while their eyes hint at something more.

There are moments when Draco wonders, if this is love. Its a fleeting, innocent thought, backed by the hopefulness that only a seventeen year old can feel. He watches Harry laughing, moving into his arms with frightening readiness, lips brushing his cheek with coy affection and he wonders, if it would be terrible to turn his face, just a bit and let their lips meet. He wonders if Harry feels the same. He wonders if he should try to push for more.

In the end he doesn't.

He isn't brave enough to risk what he has for something he could have .

Not when there's the risk of losing it all.

* * *

Its amazing how fate messes with people's lives.

The next Minister for Magic is someone who has lost his entire family to Death Eaters. Old wounds heal hard. Who better to vouch for it than Draco?

So he isn't surprised when all the wartime cases, long closed, are reopened. The Minister orders for everyone to be re-investigated, every witness questioned and Draco ends up reliving his worst nightmares.

And along with the cases, names are thrown about. Lucius Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Bad Blood. Once a monster always a monster. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Only this time, there's another suspicion. Was Harry Potter , one of the key witnesses, being _influenced?_

Pictures of him and Harry together in restaurants and cafes and clubs. Nothing outright accusatory, of course, but enough to sow doubts.

Not surprisingly, Harry brushes away the innuendos .

"They can all go to hell." He says confidently, fingers slipping into Draco's back pocket, yanking him closer.

Except if they do, they'll certainly drag Draco along.

* * *

In the end, its Draco who begins drifting away, although it kills him. He cant be selfish though.

Its not just him. A lot of his friends depend on Harry's testimony. He can't jeopardize their freedom just because he ..._likes _Harry.

It takes effort, a lot of it, because Harry isn't easy to annoy or piss off. The brunette puts up with everything he does and the farther Draco moves, the closer he gets.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Harry asks, lips trembling and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Draco hardens his heart and pulls his fingers away from Harry, sticking them into the pocket of his jeans. They're skinnies and Harry can't force his way in even if he tries.

"I'm not avoiding you. There's just too much stuff going on."

Like the trials. Like the fact that Pansy got served with eight months in Azkaban. Like the fact that there is no way he isn't following her there.

And he does.

Despite the testimony and the evidence and a billion other things, he gets served a sentence, five months and also a huge fine. He tries not to cry but the tears slip out and he resolutely turns his face away from Harry.

Harry visits him in prison, once. He isn't alone though. Ginny Weasley tags along, her fingers wrapped around Harry's. Harry convinces the guard to let him in and holds a wide-eyed scared Draco, trying to calm him down. The guard moves away, offering to return in twenty minutes and Ginny hovers in the background awkwardly.

"It'll be okay. You'll be fine." Harry says softly, fingers threading through Draco's hair. Draco doesn't miss the way Ginny's eyes flicker to the fingers, annoyance surfacing on her pretty face. He gently pulls Harry's wrist away.

"Are - Are you .." He can't bring himself to say it, merely glancing at Ginny.

Harry blushes, a deep and ugly red and Draco's heart plummets to his feet.

"It's not.. We're not...nothing serious!" Harry finishes, a hint of desperation in his voice, but to his shock, Draco feels his own lips curving into a smile.

"I'm happy for you."

Harry looks shocked, slightly slack-jawed. His eyes flicker to Draco's cheeks and Draco becomes suddenly aware of the dampness there,

"Draco... I..."

Harry moves to hug him but Draco turns his face away, embarrassed and stunned.

What did he expect ?

Here he was, a prisoner, a death eater , a _convict. _What was he going to do, ask Harry to wait for him till he gets out of prison? Taint him with his name, when Harry deserves so, so much better?

"I'm not in love with-"

"D-don't.." Draco chokes out. He doesn't want to hear the end of that sentence.

"Dray, I-"

"Don't say it. Please, don't . Just.. Just go."

Harry looks surprised and hurt.

"But why-"

"I SAID GET OUT!" Draco screams and the brunette stumbles back in shock, biting his lips in confusion.

He stays in place for another minute before leaving. Outside, Ginny pulls him into a hug and when they pull back, she reaches on her toes, lips brushing Harry's with easy familiarity.

Draco experiences heartbreak, the kind of heartbreak only a seventeen year old can feel.

* * *

When he gets out of prison, its not over. He's placed on a three year probation. No wand for the duration. Blaise is released with him and they make the sober decision to leave the wizarding world for a while. They can get a job somewhere, muggles are simple people after all.

Its a lot difficult than either of them expect. By the end of the month, Draco is contemplating returning back to Wizarding London, when he runs into Eric Davenport , a muggle magazine editor. Less than a week later , both Draco and Blaise are booked as editorial models.

* * *

Draco doesn't try to contact Harry. Its not that he doesn't want to. Its just that he has no idea what to say or how to act . He does however collect all possible information about him, his phone number, address, place of work, designation and even his next due promotion dates.

Somedays, when he's drunk enough, he punches the number into his mobile and lets his finger hover over the dial button. He then spaces out, imagining that he's actually dialled the number, that Harry picks up and they talk about how they miss each other and then go one to date, make love and live happily after.

At the end of the dream , the screen in Draco's mobile is dark, the number no longer visible and he lets his finger drop to its original position, flips his cellphone shut and then reaches for another shot.

He lives in a world of his own, where everyone is judged by face value only. Draco is a catch, his body stuck between boyhood and manhood, soft insides and strong curves. His smile is angelic and he talks with the kind of charm that is inbred. The modelling world is kind to Draco, the photographers feel honored to capture him on film and the offers come flooding in by the dozens. He picks and chooses, makes sure none of them are anywhere near his old haunts.

As the days turn to weeks and then to months, he stops wondering if Harry misses him and starts wondering if he even remembers him.

* * *

A few weeks before Draco's nineteenth birthday, a small letter arrives at his doorstep. Its short and to the point.

_D,_

_I'm leaving to France on Thursday. Would like to see you before then. Meet me at Diagon Alley at 5.00 PM. _

_H._

He goes to the assigned spot at three in the afternoon and spends and hour scouting a good hiding place. Once he finds it, a small alleyway with a view of the street, he kneels there for the next two hours, shivering and waiting.

He glimpses Harry soon enough and the brunette stands in the small circle of light cast by the streetlamp, fingers buried in his coat pockets as he looks about eagerly.

Draco watches him like a starving beggar, his eyes taking in the familiar intoxicating form and the way Harry's hair curls at the base of his neck. He crouches, shifting his weight from one folded limb to the next, cramped and cold, unmindful of his discomfort and fully focused on the boy before him. He memorizes the lines of his body, makes sure every detail is clear and concise.

Harry waits for him for a long time. He shivers a bit in the early winter cold and Draco feels a little guilty but as the minutes turn to hours and the sky gets darker and darker, the crowd on the sidewalk growing thinner and thinner, Harry finally relents, sitting down on the pavement , arms bent across his knees and chin resting on the makeshift platform.

Its an odd picture, a handsome supermodel, crouching in a dirty tainted alley while a small, frail looking young boy cries into his arms on the rain soaked pavement.

A picture that's worth a thousand words.

* * *

The days run out fast. Draco hears from Harry twice, once on his birthday and again on Christmas. He replies to both, explains stiltedly that he hadn't received Harry's note to meet before he left for France. Harry doesn't tell him about waiting in the rain. They exchange odd little emails that feel fake and dishonest and after a point Draco can't put up the front anymore.

He tells himself that he's going to stop. Stop hanging on to the last straining thread of their friendship because it was hurting both of them. But every time he tries to pull away, his heart protests . In the end he lets their conversations die a natural death, the replies and counter replies stretching over long durations till they finally stop.

As the months and years roll by and the seasons change, Draco understands what it means to grow up and move on.

* * *

M is one of the biggest Modelling Agencies in London. For years now, they've tried to get Draco to sign with them, but Draco has always hesitated, because M has wizarding clients as well. That doesn't stop them from drawing up huge meetings, which was really just another word for extravagantly luxurious parties, inviting all potential models, sponsors, clients and anyone famous.

The latest one, the one which Harry was supposedly expected to attend, was a vibrant three day festival almost. It's held in one of the most luxuriant estates in Wiltshire, twice as big as Malfoy Manor .

When Draco walks into the huge ballroom, fingers curled around a champagne flute, he catches sight of Harry Potter, exactly twenty five feet ahead of him carrying on a friendly conversation with a man in a grey suit.

At twenty seven, Draco is definitely too old for butterflies.

Try telling that to his brain.

* * *

Harry catches up to him in less than fifteen minutes after his arrival.

"Look who's here!" Harry laughs and suddenly Draco feels like he's been thrown back to his seventeen year old self, madly in love with Harry Potter and craving his approval.

"Harry." The happiness in his voice is partly genuine. At the end of the day, despite all the drama and all the pain, Draco will always be glad to see Harry.

They're both a lot different now and that's the first thing Harry comments on.

'"you've grown taller! Oh my God, I feel tiny next to you!" He laughs, leaning over with no care for etiquette and yanks Draco's carefully styled hair. Some of the other people give him odd glances, no doubt wondering why _the _Draco Malfoy was letting someone mess with his most prized asset. But Draco doesn't say anything, instead he quickly flicks Harry on the forehead. The brunette winces and pouts adorably, lower lips pushing out in protest and Draco laughs, a genuine open laugh.

They exchange pleasantries and half way through Draco gets that familiar feeling of treading too deep waters. The feeling of hovering over some invisible line that separates friendship and something more and he wants to draw back, maybe slide that well crafted mask onto his face and distance himself, the way he's been doing for the better part of these ten years but then there's something in Harry's eyes; Something soft and vague , barely tangible and his heart thrums with the possibilities, the chances and instead of drawing back he propels himself forward.

* * *

During Dinner they get adjoining seats and Harry tells him about life in France.

"The auror's there have no training whatsoever. The Academy originally sent me there as a temporary assistant to one of the professors, but then I actually started liking the place . Besides, it wasn't like I had anything much to look forward to here." Harry laughs, weakly and Draco feels his hold on the fork tighten.

"Oh?" Its all he can say, feeling oddly hurt.

"Yeah. I mean, I was hoping we ... you and I... I mean... I always thought that once you got out we could do something together but ... I couldn't find you." He whispers, looking a bit defeated.

Draco nods and feels his throat constrict painfully. _Don't read too much into it. _

"I'm sorry about that . I needed to ... get my head on straight. I thought you would be doing your own thing and I wasn't sure if you'd be waiting for me."

But his mind flashes back to that wet night, crouching in that alley, watching Harry as he waited for him.

Harry smiles a bit before replying.

"Somethings are always worth waiting for and for me-"

He stops there, just staring at Draco and the blonde stares back , evenly.

Its confusing, neither of them knows who left and who was hanging on , but then there's a part of Draco in harry and a part of Harry in Draco , so maybe they both let go and they both held on.

* * *

They have adjoining rooms and Harry invites him to watch TV . Draco gathers the snacks and a bottle of wine from his room and lets himself into Harry's room.

Its identical to Draco's but already there are traces of Harry all over the place; the soft lighting, the wet towel over the couch, the half finished bottle of water, the discarded jacket .

Draco places the spoils from his room on the table and takes off his shoes before tentatively sitting on the bed. The shower is running and Harry calls out that he would be out in ten minutes. Draco nods foolishly and then stops when he realizes the boy couldn't see him. He turns to the side, where Harry's suitcase is open, the contents spread on the bed.

All the clothes are already hanging in the closet and Draco glimpses a few photographs and letters, a small Bible and a silver chain with a crucifix. He reaches out, picking up the bound book and flipping through the pages. He then picks up the chain, watching it catch the light. He traces the crucifix with his forefinger and moves to hold it against his chest when the bathroom door opens.

"You can have that, if you like." Harry says suddenly and Draco nearly drops it in shock. He flushes and places it back in the suitcase.

He cant remember the last time he went to church and he feels a little guilty for that. His mother had been vaguely religious.

Harry slips a DVD in and then settles back against the headboard, patting the space next to him.

"This one's really good." Harry insists, pointing at the screen and Draco settles down next to him. Over the course of the movie, Harry's head droops, down and down till it rests on Draco's shoulders, their height perfect for cuddling. Draco slips an arm around Harry's shoulder drawing him closer.

They fall asleep like that, legs tangled in the blankets.

* * *

They spend the day lounging out by the pool. Draco tosses Harry in, without warning.

Three times.

The brunette splutters and howls, tries to pull Draco in as well and Draco can only laugh because Harry is small , completely incapable of manhandling someone like Draco. They settle down on the side of the pool, feet dipping into the warm water and Harry traces patterns on the tiles separating them.

"I heard you dated Zabini." Harry asks curiously and Draco feels a flush rise in his neck. What a disaster that had been!

"Uh, yeah . It wasn't anything serious , we were just..lonely I guess. We didn't know anyone else and at the time it seemed like a good idea."

It actually was one of the most horrendous ideas they had ever come up with.

"Oh. So after him there's-?"

"No one. My schedule is jam packed and I can hardly juggle a love life with my professional one. Too much of a bother." Draco smiles . Did he imagine that flash of disappointment in Harry's face?

"Oh."

_What about Ginny?_ he really wants to ask.

"Well, its always good not to jeopardize friendship. Always." Harry smiles fondly and Draco feels a sharp pang, sharp and fleeting but agonizing nonetheless.

"Its nice to have something steady" he agrees quietly. Harry hums in approval and then he grins.

"Like us, huh?" He asks with a laugh and Draco stares at the small hand held out to him. He has no idea what he's doing but he takes the hand in his.

The next thing he knows is water in his mouth and nose and it takes him a second to realize that Harry has pulled him into the pool.

* * *

They take a walk through the huge gardens in the evening and Harry regales him with tales from France. Draco hangs on every word and he feels like he's in some alternate universe. The entire scene is like something out of his dreams , vague half forgotten ones that had always left a bitter taste in his mouth at the time.

But now, he's happy. He's so happy that he feels the need to share it with Harry.

"Harry!" He calls out to the brunette who's walking a few steps ahead, laughing and swinging his arms, like he was twelve. Harry turns around, but continues walking backward, hands in the pocket of his jeans, a soft smile painted on his face. Draco grins at the scene. Its gorgeous, the pale evening light giving Harry's smooth features a golden glow. Harry continues smiling, still walking backwards and Draco slows down a bit and makes a small heart with the thumb and forefinger of his hands.

"I'm happy!" He calls out. Harry grins at that and then turns around.

"Race you to the pool!" He yells and takes off, Draco laughing and hurrying in his wake.

Later, they sip drinks in the deck of the pool and Harry leans into his shoulders.

"I'm happy too."

Draco hums in response and they sit there , bathed in starlight.

* * *

On the last night of their stay, they visit the club and they watch the dance floor, drinks clutched in their hands.

"What do you say?" Draco asks suddenly, head tilting in the direction of the writhing bodies. Harry looks surprised but then he grins.

"Lets show them, how its done!" He laughs, yanking Draco by his wrist.

* * *

This is a bad idea, Draco thinks, letting Harry pull him along, their hips uncomfortably close . He has no idea if Harry's actually attracted to him and he's afraid, really afraid of his body betraying him. Harry however is completely uninhibited, his body swaying in time with the beat.

"C'mon, Dray. Stop acting like an oldie." He teases and Draco throws caution to the winds, snaking his arm out and wrapping it Harry's waist, pulling the smaller boy flush against his chest. Harry yelps in shock but his eyes dance with mirth as he looks up at Draco. They move fluidly, muscle memory picking up with ease, bodies aligned perfectly and Draco instinctively slips the tip of his finger into the waistband of Harry's pants. Harry's breath catches and for a second they freeze, Draco's fingers hovering in place, his mind screaming at him while his heart pounds. Harry's fingers rest lightly on his, right on his beltbuckle.

And then, Harry moves his palms over Draco's waist, up his chest, past his collarbones and finally curves his fingers around the knot of his tie.

He yanks sharply and Draco gasps as soft, plush lips close over his and Draco tumbles straight across that forbidden line.

* * *

They have no idea who's room they stumble into. And honestly, they couldn't care less.

The moment Draco closes the door, Harry pushes him against the hard wooden surface, his breath coming out in pants, his fingers scratching the skin near Draco's neck as he fumbled with the tie. Draco tries to help him but Harry swats his hand away.

"Let me do this!" He says hoarsely , and after a little bit of struggle he tugs it off. Only he doesn't toss it away like Draco expects.

Instead he grabs Draco's wrists, holds them behind his back and quickly ties them together. Draco whistles softly.

"Kinky." he mutters and to his amusement, Harry flushes red . He laughs out loud, but Harry kisses him, rough and fierce and he isn't laughing anymore because fuck he wants to touch Harry so badly. Its hot and wet, tongues sliding slick against each other, teeth bumping a bit but Draco can feel pleasure bubbling up from the base of his stomach.

It takes some effort but soon Draco is on the bed, naked except for his jeans and Harry straddles him, knees on either side of his waist, the seam of his pants pressing into Draco's arousal as the brunette grinds down into him , his lips nibbling and biting the sensitive skin below Draco's ear.

"Get this off!" Draco grunts, talking about the damn tie around his wrists but Harry sits up, grinning.

"With pleasure."

He shimmies down and Draco watches with a painful combination of arousal and disbelief as Harry's teeth latch on to the zipper of his jeans, yanking it down with brutal force.

He nearly shoots out of the ceiling when Harry pulls him out, gives Draco a sultry glance before slipping his entire length into his hot , wet mouth. Draco keens and shudders, wanting nothing more than to slips his fingers down and bury them in the soft messy black bangs near his waist.

The air conditioning isn't turned on and Draco is overheated, feeling like his entire body had been tossed into a furnace but despite the heat, despite the sweat running down his face, he begins seeking out the hot warmth of the mouth working on him, canting his hips and trying to get Harry to take him deeper. He almost wails when the boy pulls him out with an obscene little pop and crawls back up his body.

"Inside me. I want you, inside me."

Draco nearly comes hard at the words alone.

"Fucking..." Draco swears in shock and Harry grins.

"Exactly."

They spend the entire night doing just that.

* * *

He wakes up to the sound of something buzzing, right next to his ear. Grumbling, he pushes his fingers underneath the pillow only to come up with a cellphone. It is Harry's and Draco is too groggy to think about privacy and such, caring only about getting the abysmal buzzing to stop. So he flicks open the cellphone , ready to shut it off only to be greeted by a picture message. Its Ginny, in a wedding dress.

_do you like this harry?_

Draco feels self disgust and guilt rise up in his throat like a living breathing creature and he stumbles out of the bed, careful not to make any noise. He pulls his clothes on haphazardly and stumbles out of the room.

When Harry wakes up in the morning , Draco is gone. There is no sign of him, anywhere in the estate except for the tie currently at the bottom of Harry's suitcase.

* * *

It takes him two weeks to get some semblance of normalcy into his life. He goes about his everyday routine, poses for different spreads and even auditions for a movie but the more he buries himself in work, the more his heart hurts and screams and craves.

They all get invites to Ginny Weasley's wedding . Draco doesn't bother opening his own and merely tosses it away.

The least Harry could have done was to make sure he didn't get one of those.

* * *

He is probably a masochist.

What other possible explanation could there be? Why else would he, willingly , arrive at the wedding, holding a stupid bouquet and dressed in a stupid tuxedo.

_Closure, _he tells himself firmly.

He was going to see the wedding and maybe, maybe his stupid gullible brain would finally realize that Harry Potter was not his. Was never going to be his. He settles at the back of the wedding tent and catches sight of Harry standing handsome and classy, his hair slicked into some semblance of order and a small lily in his lapel. The brunette is smiling but it looks like a fractured imitation of his usual grin. Draco feels some sick vindication at that and continues to watch as he and the best man, Dean Thomas, exchange a few words.

The first strains of music , prompts everyone to stand and Draco glimpses ginny, looking ethereal in her wedding gown. He feels his breath catch. She was exquisite. No wonder harry had chosen her, no wonder he preferred her to-

Draco blinked.

Something akin to panic began bubbling inside his throat as he watched Ginny reach out and take her bridegroom's hand.

Her bridegroom who was Dean Thomas.

* * *

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..." Draco chants over and over again.

"Will you just calm down for a second?" Blaise hisses as the pair of them try to find Harry in the crowd that is seemingly growing larger by the second.

"I should be shot. Or stabbed. With a blunt knife. " Draco mutters , panic and guilt and self loathing flooding his veins as he realized the true extent to which he'd botched it all up.

Poor Harry.

After all he'd done for him, Draco had repaid him by butchering their fragile relationship.

"There he is, look! " Blaise points at one of the smaller alcoves, where Harry is leaning against the stone wall, his fingers plucking absently at one of the curled vines. Draco walks up to him, almost retreats , but gets shoved forward by Blaise. He hisses at him but the italian merely grins before moving away , and Draco realizes that their both alone now.

"H-Harry?" He flounders and Harry's head whips around in shock. He stares, shocked, at Draco and then the light in his eye fades, like a switch being turned off and Draco , really , really wants to shoot himself.

"Oh, hey." He says litstlessly, smiling a bit and before thinking about it, Draco sinks to his knees.

"Draco, what-" Harry croaks , reaching for him, but Draco holds up a hand.

"Please just.. let me... Harry I'm sorry.I'm a fool, a liar and a fucking coward. I've made so many mistakes and so many wrong decisions and I'm a spineless bastard but if I don't do this now, I'll hate myself forever. I'm so sorry because none of this, none of this would have happened if I'd told you the truth , ten years ago. I'm in love with you, Harry Potter. So fucking in love with you and I'm sorry I left you that day in the hotel but I saw that stupid message and I thought-"

He gets cut off by Harry's laugh.

"You're such a moron, Draco." Harry says fondly, reaching out to drag him back upright and in Harry's smile, Draco feels the lost years melt away into nothing but distant memories, no longer even real.

"I love you too, you stubborn bastard." Harry kisses him fondly before pulling back.

And then he pulls out the infamous tie and holds it out.

Draco stares at it.

"This is your isn't it? I was going to send it to your agency but then I wasn't sure how that would seem. "

Draco grabs the tie and wraps it around Harry's neck, drawing him closer.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't throw it. Its my favorite." He reaches lower, tongue tracing the small curve of Harry's ear.

"Next time, tie me up." Harry grins, reaching out, and wrapping his arms around Draco's neck.

Draco grins.

"Oh certainly. By the way, did I tell you I have a thing for blindfolds?"

* * *

**A/n :- I've been a bit busy and haven't written much so my skills were a bit rusty. This is just something I wrote to get back in the groove. Reviews will be loved! :) **

**Thank you for reading!**


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